


Rain Series

by Airasyraye



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fighting, Frottage, Incest, Language, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, storm kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 04:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10268534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airasyraye/pseuds/Airasyraye
Summary: An innocent little storm kink sets Sam off when he and Dean are caught out in the rain. Set season one.





	1. Rain Part One

Dean cursed out loud as he and Sam raced through the downpour. The rain was sheeting down like someone had turned on a faucet, melting the world around them. The hard-packed dirt path was little more than mud and puddles roughly the size of Lake Superior and there was no dodging them. The twelfth time Dean slipped in mud and fell into the puddle was about the time his entire vocabulary had devolved into curses.

Sam yanked him up and they staggered around another bend in the path. There was the covered picnic table that marked the first third of the trail they’d taken, the first of two such rest stops. It was another mile back to where they’d left the Impala, and there was no way they were making it. 

The brothers hurried under the canopy. It offered semi-effective cover, considering the wind, but it was better than nothing. 

Dean straightened up and glared at Sam. His mop of hair was tangled and plastered to his head and he was almost as splattered with mud as Dean was. Yeah, almost. Dean’s entire pants from mid-thigh down were nothing but mud. 

“Great idea, Sam,” Dean growled as he sat down on a wooden bench and yanked off his boot. He upended it, watching a cup of water pour out onto the already-wet concrete. 

Sam had bugged the hell out of Dean to take a hike here in Alabama. Dean had resisted, told Sam to go alone, but Sam had pestered him relentlessly to go with him and get some exercise. He insisted Dean wasn’t healthy enough, that his diet was going to catch up to him, and that it would do him good to get out in the fresh air. Dean had finally agreed just to make him shut up. And then a thunderstorm had struck when they were little more than halfway along the path. 

“The storm is not my fault, Dean,” Sam said. 

Dean yanked off his other boot. “Could be warm in Baby, miles from here. But nooo, I’m here in the middle of Deliverance Woods, soaked and filthy. And you know how I hate to be filthy!”

“Deliverance was in Georgia.”

“Yeah, because *that* was my point!”

“Dean, I’m sorry, okay, but you could use the exercise.”

“I kill monsters for a living! I run my ass through every state every week! Excuse me if I want to take it easy when I’m not running for my life.”

Sam sighed. Dean threw down his other boot. He stripped off his outer shirt, then peeled off his T-shirt, scrubbing the mud off his face and neck. Reluctantly, Sam was doing the same. A flash of lightning lit up the semi-darkness of the early twilight, revealing Sam’s lean chest. Dean grunted and turned his back. 

“Are you giving me the cold shoulder?” Sam said, sounding annoyed.

Dean sniffed and winced as the following crash of thunder made the canopy around them vibrate. Rain was smacking Dean right in the face. Another lightning flash lit up the surroundings, showing the silvery rain that was almost a solid sheet. 

“Will you grow up?” Sam snapped behind him.

Dean ignored him. He yanked open the fastenings to his pants and yanked them down and off. 

“Why are you getting undressed, Dean, we’re out in public?”

Dean turned to face Sam, then pointedly looked to the left and then to the right. Sam looked embarrassed and more pissed off for it. Dean turned his back again and shook his jeans, trying to dislodge as much mud as possible. It served to get more on him, but at least it was helping his jeans. Dean tossed the jeans over the edge of the table, doubting they would dry at all. He wiped himself off again with his shirt. More flashes of lightning and crashes of thunder lit the night.

“Dean, can you grow up for a bit?” Sam said again. “What, are you five years old?” Dean ignored him again. Sam growled behind him. “I don’t believe this.”

“You know I hate hiking, Sammy,” Dean said testily. “But you had to bug me like an annoying little brother and I gave in the like awesome big brother I am, and now look at me. Getting all wet and dirty only really ices this shit cake.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I was looking out for you.”

“Please, I raised *your* scrawny ass.” A wet shirt splatted against Dean’s back. He turned around with an open mouth. “And I’M the child?”

Sam smirked at him until Dean’s own shirt struck him in the face. Sam growled and grabbed a handful of mud off his pants and flung it at Dean. Dean dodged and lunged at Sam, shoving him. Sam braced against him and they grappled, snarling at each other. Fingers slipped on wet flesh and then Sam’s still booted foot came down on Dean’s socked toes. He yelled in pain and yanked away. Sam’s demeanor immediately changed.

“Sorry, Dean, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Dean snarled and grabbed Sam’s shoulders and twisted and shoved. He threw Sam off the concrete slab and out into the storm. Sam slipped and went down in large puddle. He came up sputtering out filthy water, soaked from head to toe. Another flash of lightning lit up his enraged expression. Dean immediately felt sort of bad as Sam struggled to get up, splashing out of the muddy pool and back onto the concrete slab in a rather pitiful display. 

“Feel better?” Sam growled as he got up, swiping mud off himself and flinging it to the concrete. 

Dean sighed and picked up his shirt, moving over to wipe the mud from Sam’s face and hair. Sam let him do it with ill grace. Then he flinched away when Dean grabbed his belt buckle. 

“What? Come on, Sam, get out of those stupid things so I can get the mud off.”

“I’m fine. A little mud doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“You’re not getting into Baby all muddied up. Give me.”

“Dean, get off.”

“Just shut up and get out of--” Dean paused, then looked at Sam in astonishment. Another bright flash of lightning showed Sam’s embarrassment. “You’re hard.”

“Yeah, I am, okay, lay off.”

“What the hell is so sexy?”

“You were all…you know, wet and stripping, okay.”

Dean pursed his lips, then grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

“Dean, come on, don’t tease me.”

Dean’s grin widened and he stepped towards Sam. “Oh, but I like teasing you.”

“Wrong choice of words,” Sam muttered. “Dean, we’re out in public.”

Dean exaggeratedly looked around again. Sam made a face that was lit up by another flash of lightning. As Dean pushed him gently against one of the wooden pilings holding up the roof, a crash of thunder rumbled their shelter. Dean felt a shiver run through Sam. 

“It’s the storm, isn’t it?” Dean asked. He laughed a little. “Get your blood pumping there, Sammy? All that thunder and lightning?”

“There were other people on the path,” Sam said. “No idea where they are.”

Dean snorted. He reached down and put his hand over the bulge in Sam’s pants, feeling it twitch. Sam gasped as Dean curved his hand to fit perfectly between his legs. 

“Live a little, Sammy,” Dean purred. 

Sam growled and pulled Dean against him, claiming his mouth. Dean groaned and opened his mouth for Sam’s tongue. One of Sam’s broad hands landed on his boxer-clad butt and squeezed, pulling him even closer. Dean reached up, running his hand through Sam’s wet hair, sucking on Sam’s tongue. Sam’s other hand wandered up his bare back while the first one kneaded his ass. Dean skimmed his hand over Sam’s broad chest and broke the kiss to pull on his hair to make him tilt his head back. Sam moaned as Dean latched onto his neck, sucking and nibbling. 

“Get those off,” Dean ordered.

Sam shivered and dropped his hands to his pants, undoing the belt and other fastenings. The pants slid down long legs with some wriggling and then they were both in their boxers. Dean let go over the flesh he’d been mauling and pulled back, drawing Sam with him by his hands. He backed up to the table, then turned and pushed Sam down onto the bench. He got down on his knees, reaching to spread Sam’s thighs and grinning up at him, watching as flashes of lightning showed Sam’s wide-eyed stare. 

Dean slid a hand up under the leg of Sam’s boxers and teased his balls. Sam whimpered and leaned back against the table. Dean grabbed the waistband and slid them down Sam’s legs. He paused to grab their clothes, pushing Sam’s boxers under him to keep his bare bottom off the rough wood and knelt on his own. Then he settled back between Sam’s legs and rested his hands on his thighs. He leaned forward and licked a trail up the inside of one, staring up at Sam as he did, watching him through the flashes of lightning to see him looking back. Sam leaned further back against the table, hands gripping the edge. 

“Dean…”

Dean peppered kisses along both thighs, massaging them with his fingers. He leaned forward and darted his tongue against the hard column of flesh before him and grinned at Sam’s soft moan. 

“That what you want, Sammy? Want me to lick all over this big dick of yours?”

“Dean.” 

“That a yes, Sammy?”

Dean flicked his tongue against the sensitive underside of the head. He watched Sam throw his head back. Dean hummed and lowered down to drag his tongue over Sam’s balls. Sam spread his legs a little further and groaned as Dean gently suckled first one and then the other, working the soft sac with his lips and tongue. He moved further up and ran his tongue from base to tip.

“Oh, fuck, Dean, please.”

“Please what?” 

Sam whined and pushed his hips forward. Dean laughed and leaned back, then darted forward with a series of bathing laps of his tongue. Sam shuddered. 

“Dean.”

“Tell me what you want, Sammy.”

“Nnngh. Just put it in your fucking mouth, Dean.”

Dean groaned and did as he was told. He opened his mouth and swallowed what he could, sucking and bobbing his head, hands pressed against Sam’s thighs. He moved one up, skimming over Sam’s belly, rubbing as he bobbed his head. He was treated by a flash of lightning to the sight of Sam’s back arched and his head tossed back, tendons in his neck standing out.

A terrific crash of thunder made Sam jump. Dean gagged as more than what he could take was shoved down his throat. He pulled off, coughing.

“Sorry!”

Dean snorted and pushed up, skimming his lips up Sam’s body until they were nose to nose. “Heart thumping there, Sam. Storm really getting you going, huh?” His voice was hoarse.

Dean stood and pulled at Sam, yanking their outer shirts and his own jeans closer to them, spreading them out and then laying Sam on them. He climbed up over him, settling himself between Sam’s spread legs. Bending down, he kissed him hard, fighting with his tongue as Sam’s hands wandered over his back and squeezed at his ass. Dean lined them up, then started rocking his hips. Their cocks rubbed together, making them both moan.

Lightning flashed. The wind grew stronger, throwing rain sideways on them. Dean tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair, bracing himself on his other arm, grinding their hips together. Sam thrust back, hooking one leg over Dean’s. The other fell off the table, foot braced on the bench. A crash of thunder made them both jerk and Dean had to admit, his own heart was racing now. 

Sam broke the kiss, turning his head to the side and sucking in great gasps of air. Dean buried his face in his neck, panting as he thrust. He mewled as Sam’s index finger dipped between his cheeks, ghosting over his hole. 

“Oh, fuck, Sammy.”

Sam traced his rim, teeth now on Dean’s shoulder. They rocked together, rhythm sometimes off, mostly on, and Dean felt the prickles of climax start in his balls. He knew by the noises Sam was making, he wasn’t far off either. 

“Ah, ah, Dean…oh, fuck, Dean!”

Dean started sucking at Sam’s neck again, worrying another bruise about half an inch below the first. Sam rolled his head back against the table, giving him access. He was now holding onto his ass with both hands, yanking Dean against him. Sam was surging under him, lightning flickering over wet skin, showing how his face was screwed up. Dean shifted himself and reached between their bodies, grabbing them both in one hand and stroking. Sam keened, looking down at Dean. Dean kissed him again, moaning against his lips as he felt Sam reach down and wrap one of his hands on the other side, forming a complete circle around their dicks. He had more leverage than Dean now and thrust against their grips. 

“Ahh, Dean, I’m gonna come.”

“Me too, Sammy. Come on, come for me. Let me see you.”

Sam keened again and then he was coming, hips jerking spasmodically against Dean’s. Dean groaned as he felt the wet heat of Sam’s come spill over his dick. He jerked against him and came immediately after, shouting into the storm. They clutched at each other, still jerking themselves and each other, voices competing with the wind. At last they had to let go and collapse, panting raggedly as they came down. 

“Still…mad…about the hike?” Sam gasped.

“Yeah,” Dean grunted, biting lightly at the point of Sam’s chin. “But this helps.”

Sam laughed and wrapped his arms around Dean again, laying back with a sigh. Dean rested against his sturdy body, sleepily watching the rain come down. 

If it didn’t stop soon, he’d see if he could rouse Sam up for another round.


	2. Rain Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's storm fetish is too irresistible for Dean to pass up when they're staying at a motel in Arizona and a monsoon rainstorm starts. Set in late S7.

Dean peered through the sliding glass door and grinned wickedly. Sam was standing out in the mild rain, head tipped up and eyes probably closed, letting the cool water wash over his skin. It had been a dry, dusty week here in Arizona and the late-summer rain was a welcome refresher. A freaking phoenix had decided to wreak havoc, not yet having killed anyone, but not hiding its pyro-kinetic powers from hikers at a popular, yet very remote, desert trail a mile outside of the city limits. What it was doing out there was so far anyone’s guess, and because law enforcement had yet to catch a glimpse, the going theory was heat stroke and mirages, but Sam and Dean now knew the signs of a phoenix and were looking for the bastard. So far, no luck.

Sam had even suggested maybe the phoenix was one of those rare monsters who didn’t hurt people. Their only other encounter of a phoenix had been bent on revenge. Dean wasn’t even sure what they ate. Until recently, phoenixes had been considered mythical. 

Still, Dean was adamant that they at least try to locate him or her and tell it to lay off scaring folks. There was nothing else they could do while the Leviathans lay low planning who knew what and Cas was out of commission, but being looked after by Meg. Dean had just gotten his brother back whole and sound, mostly, and he would be lying if he didn't say he was relieved.

Since arriving here, they’d nearly come close to heat stroke themselves and had finally retreated yesterday to their adobe-like, air-conditioned hotel. It was a strange, two-story thing, all stucco and orange barrel-tile, built into the side of a mesa so there was no rear entrances. It cost half a fortune, but was the only motel within the city and the only city within hours of this place. Thankfully, credit card fraud still held up.

It spoke of the miserable week that Sam was actually shirtless. He had nothing to hide, but was body-shy anyway, refusing to strut his stuff the way Dean sure thought he should. 

Dean watched as the rain pushed Sam’s long hair back and ran down the lines of his back in rivulets. Dean couldn’t help but lick his lips, suddenly thirsty.

Stealthily, he eased open the sliding glass door and crept out. Padding barefoot on the rain-wet concrete balcony, Dean moved up behind his brother, stuck out his tongue, and traced the path of a trickle of water running down his brother’s neck.

Sam startled, flailing a little. Dean laughed and braced him, catching him by the elbows before he could put one in his ribs. 

“Easy,” he murmured. “Just me.”

“Dean.” Sam’s cheeks flushed red. “Um, I was just enjoying the rain.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Dean reached around and was pleased to find Sam hard. He pressed a kiss to one broad shoulder. “I approve.”

Sam shifted against him, half-embarrassed. His head tilted again and he sighed as Dean kissed along his neck. “Mm, that feels good.”

Dean lapped rain water off Sam’s shoulder before sucking on the spot. Sam shifted against him again, then started to turn. Dean grabbed him by the hips and held tight.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured against Sam’s ear. “Want you right here.”

“Dean! Someone could see.”

He was being overly dramatic, as usual. There were like two other rooms rented in this nutty motel and no one was outside. The balcony railing was a solid piece of rounded-top concrete that came up past Sam’s navel. 

“Shh. Yeah, Sammy, right here. Out in the open air, in the rain, right where anyone could see you.” He bit gently on the shell of Sam’s ear. “Press you right against this railing, fuck you in the rain.”

Sam’s whimper was audible even over the rain pattering down. Dean looked down briefly to see broad hands clenched white-knuckled on the railing. Oh, yeah, Dean had Sam’s number. His brother had a handful of simple little fetishes he kept trying to hide.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Dean didn’t miss the way Sam shivered. He licked water from the spot between Sam’s shoulder blades and knew there would be no more half-hearted arguments from him. He tangled the fingers of one hand in Sam’s hair and pulled his head back, very gently, not rough, and sucked at his earlobe. Sam shivered again and moaned. Dean ground against him, letting him feel the hard bulge of his dick against his ass. Sam pushed his hips back, definitely on board now.

Wrapping his other arm around him, holding him tight against him, he fished in his pocket for the lube he’d already stored there when he’d gone hunting for Sam. He couldn’t help a grin as Sam’s hands reached back and eased down his loosened pants, just under the curve of his rear, where Dean could get to him. Letting him have that, Dean tore open the lube packet with his teeth, letting go of Sam just long enough to liberally coat his fingers. Wrapping his arm around him again, he shifted so he could get his hand in between their bodies, running slick fingers over his hole. Sam shivered again, head down, water dripping from his hair. 

Dean bit against the nape of Sam’s neck. He eased two fingers in at once, making Sam moan and lean forward a little more, since his legs were trapped by his own devising. Dean pushed his fingers in carefully, then started rocking them in and out, rotating his wrist back and forth, stretching him. Sam groaned, pushing back.

“More,” he demanded.

“Eager bitch,” Dean grated, pushing in another finger.

“Jerk,” Sam panted. “Fuck!”

Dean grazed his prostate again, hard, but careful. He couldn’t kiss his brother properly this way, Sam too damn tall, so he settled for sucking on his neck. 

“I’m ready,” Sam gasped.

Dean reluctantly stopped rubbing Sam’s sweet spot, withdrawing his fingers. It was about to get better for both of them anyway. As Sam calmed down a little, Dean wiped his fingers off on a handkerchief and then ripped open the packet on a condom, rolling it on. He finished the rest of lube over himself, then carefully guided his cock up and in. He had to pause, gritting his teeth, because Sam’s legs trapped together like this made him almost unbearably tight. He worked his hips little by little until he was finally seated. 

“Mmm, Sam, you’re so fucking tight with your legs like this. Like a virgin again.” Sam was shaking, so Dean ran a hand up his wet back, minutely rocking his hips in a slow circle. “Sammy? Okay?”

“Tight,” Sam grunted. “Give me a second.”

Dean stilled, laying kisses along Sam’s wet skin, lapping up rain drops. “Could pull your pants down more, you know.”

Sam rolled his hips back and made Dean gasp. “I don’t want to be naked outside, Dean.”

“Since when?”

Dean didn’t have to see Sam’s face to recognize his guilty blush. It wasn’t being in public that got to Sam, but rain, storms. For whatever reason. Maybe it was just because they’d had that fucking wild night in a thunderstorm ages ago and Sam had developed a kink because of it. Dean didn’t care--more fun for him to have Sam all wet and embarrassed and turned on.

Dean, of course, was not naked either. He had on his shirt and had only opened his pants enough. But it was fun to tease his brother. 

“Move,” Sam murmured. “Slow.”

Dean could do that. He withdrew glacially, then reversed and slipped back in. Sam trembled, his fingers gripping onto the balcony. Dean rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder and held onto his hips, working slowly back and forth. 

“You can go faster than that,” Sam said with a huffed laugh. “I’m not fragile.”

Dean nipped at the bulging bicep closest to his face. “Certainly aren’t that.”

He increased his tempo until he heard Sam moan in approval and then kept it up, slower than usual, but with Sam’s legs practically tied together, that was all he could handle himself. 

Sam leaned forward just a little bit more, resting his sternum on the balcony. A groan left his mouth as Dean nailed his prostate dead on. Dean straightened back up and glanced down to see Sam stretched around him. He growled and reached down to trace a finger around the taut rim. Sam gasped. Dean grinned to himself as Sam swayed under the downpour, his head tilting back to put his face to it. Hell, Dean could approve of whatever little kink this was, he thought to himself, watching water run down his brother’s broad back. 

“Need a hand there, Sammy?” Dean asked. 

Sam shook his head, sending water droplets flying. Dean groaned and continued to thrust, grinding his hips like he knew Sam liked. The noise that left Sam’s mouth was drowned out by a peal of thunder and Dean felt his heart hammer just a little, his hips hitching. Okay, maybe Sammy’s little thing with thunderstorms had something to it after all. 

The wind picked up, throwing the rain in their faces, blowing Sam’s wet hair back. Dean narrowed his eyes and hunkered down a bit. He jerked his hips, pulling Sam back against him, feeling the familiar tingles racing along his nerves. 

One of Sam’s hands left the balcony and disappeared under him. 

“Oh, fuck, are you touching yourself?” Dean gasped. He couldn’t help slamming his hips once as arousal surged, muttering ‘sorry, sorry’ as Sam grunted. Slowing down again, he nibbled at wet skin. “Wish I could see.”

Sam laughed breathlessly. “Seen it before, Dean. Many times.”

“Never enough, Sammy.”

“Feel…the same. Fuck, Dean!”

Dean moaned. He tried to slow down even more, right on the precipice, and Sam was having none of it. His brother shoved his hips back, forcing the rhythm faster again. Dean clenched his hands on Sam’s hips, gritting his teeth.

“Sammy…I-I can’t…You’re too tight. Gonna..Gonna…”

“Do it,” Sam said. “Come on, Dean, come.”

“Ah, shit.” Dean admitted defeat. His rhythm faltered as he came, pulses slamming up his spine. “Fuck, fuck, yes.” Shuddering, Dean rested his forehead against the nape of Sam’s neck, pressing lazy kisses as he drifted down from the high. The rain had slackened considerably.

He was aware Sam hadn’t come with him. Dean eased out carefully, then immediately twisted Sam around, pushed him back against the railing, and dropped to his knees. He ran his tongue up the hard flesh in front of him before wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking. Sam groaned, his hands dropping down to cup Dean’s head. Dean relaxed his throat and started bobbing his head, getting one hand in between Sam’s legs to rub his balls, the other running along Sam’s belly and hips. 

“Mm, Dean…”

Dean looked up the length of Sam’s body to see him with his head thrown back to the rain again. He chuckled muffedly, then put more effort in, trying to push Sam over the edge, knowing he was already close. Sam was rocking a little now, his breathing coming in gasps. He was shaking, every muscle tense. Dean rubbed Sam’s stomach, then moved it around behind him. He easily slipped two fingers in, thrusting them in and out of Sam as his brother keened and rocked harder between the two points of stimulation. He was right on the edge. Dean curled his fingers against his prostate, pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock and sucked strongly while pulling up and that was that. Sam’s hips stuttered against his face as he came in his mouth. Dean swallowed, removing his fingers, but continuing to lick and mouth at Sam until he pushed him away, shivering with over-sensitivity and laughing high and shaky. 

Dean looked up again with a grin, seeing Sam leaning back on his elbows on the railing, rain drops still trickling down his skin, looking content and satisfied.

“What are you doing?”

The blood drained out of Sam’s face so fast that Dean thought he’d pass out on him. The woman’s voice had come from below at ground level. Dean stood up, peering over the railing to see a middle-aged woman leaning out from under the edge of the balcony to look up at them.

“We’re fucking!” Dean shouted back. As Sam made a noise that sounded like a horse have an aneurysm beside him, Dean flashed his best charming grin. “Mind your business!”

The woman’s mouth had dropped into a round O. Her face went tomato red, she faltered like her brain had gone offline, and then she went under the balcony and out of sight. And Sam had the same expression on his face. Dean dissolved into laughter, leaning against the wet balcony and watching as Sam freaked out.

“Dean! You--you can’t--”

“Did.”

“What if she calls the cops?! Do you want to get arrested for public indecency? Isn’t murder enough?”

“Say that louder, Sammy, I don’t think she heard that one, unlike your screams of ecstasy.”

“I can’t believe you--You have no shame!”

“Nope.”

Sam was still trying to fasten his pants as he scurried into their room, thoroughly scandalized. Dean chuckled to himself and turned his face up to the gentle rain, sighing in pleasure as the cool drops patterned against his skin. 

He sauntered lazily towards the room, intent on tossing the condom and getting cleaned up, only to find Sam had locked him out.

The bitch.


	3. Rain Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean are caught in a torrential downpour that makes driving unsafe. What better way for Dean to pass the time than to feel up Sam? Set Season 11.

The Impala’s windows were already foggy and they’d barely started. That was his Sammy, always running hot. 

Currently the brothers were curled up together in the front seat, Sam pressed between the backrest and the passenger door. Dean had his tongue in his mouth and his hand up his shirt, running his fingers over the hard planes of Sam’s belly. Sam was running his fingers through his hair with one hand and holding him fast by the belt with the other. 

Rain drummed on the roof of the car and rolled down the windows. It was a bitch of a thunderstorm and Dean had given up trying to make Baby’s wipers keep up with the deluge, so they’d pulled off to wait it out on the side of the road and what better way to pass the time than to feel up his little brother? 

A crash of thunder ripped through the sky and Sam surged up under Dean. His fingers pulled insistently at Dean’s belt, both trying to undo the fastenings and just pulling him by it. Dean had to break the kiss and push Sam’s hands away as they were getting nowhere this way.

“Calm down,” Dean said with a grin, Sam was propped against the door, eyes narrow and dark with lust, hectic red on his cheeks revealed by the dome light, kiss-bruised lips parted. “Got a while, Sammy, storm’s not going anywhere fast.”

Sam squirmed when Dean ran his index around his bellybutton, then traced the scar of the bullet that werewolf had put in him. Dean growled a little, pushing closer to Sam. Any memory of how close he came to losing him, again, made Dean feel awful.

“I’m okay,” Sam murmured against his mouth without even really breaking the renewed, almost frantic kiss. “Been two weeks, Dean, I’m fine.”

Dean grunted noncommittally. He undid his belt buckle, button, and zipper, then leaned down, pushing Sam’s loose shirts up. Dean kissed along his hip, feathering his lips over the bullet scar. Sam’s fingers carded gently through his hair and Dean knew he was looking down at him, probably with a tender smile, letting Dean soothe himself that Sam was fine.

Sam still didn’t know that Dean had killed himself to talk Billie into trading their souls. 

Dean had no intention of ever telling him.

Getting back into a more amorous frame of mind, Dean worked his way up, pushing Sam’s shirts up further as he went. Sam sat up a little to pull them off and Dean sucked at the nipple suddenly pressed into his face. Sam moaned, the shirts hitting the floor in the backseat. Dean ran his tongue against the pebbled nub and then bit gently. Sam gasp, squirming back away from the sting. Dean chased him, licking away the hurt, kissing the hard pec muscle and working his way up Sam’s neck. Sam turned his face into him and they kissed again. Dean pushed his tongue into Sam’s mouth, hands pushing open his pants. He groped him through his underwear, hearing the muffled moans. Together, they managed to work off the rest of their clothes, letting them fall into a pile on the floor. 

“Can you turn over?” Dean asked when there was just enough space between them to talk. 

“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam said again.

Dean moved back, letting Sam wriggle around onto his front. He would prefer to be facing each other--so he was a softie, sue him--but folding Sam up right now wouldn’t be a good idea. Yes, Sam was healing, but the spot was still sore, and Dean didn’t want to take any chances. 

Besides, this gave him a good view of Sam’s long, muscled back and the taut globes of his ass, which Dean took the opportunity to squeeze. Sam squeaked, which was even better. 

Snatching the lube out of the cup holder, Dean slicked his fingers and worked one into Sam. They hadn’t been together much lately, for various reasons, and Dean wanted to take his time. With one of Sam’s legs bent at the knee with his toes resting against the foggy driver’s side window and the other stretched out on the floor, Dean balanced on the remainder of the seat, own foot braced on the floorboards and the other leg folded up under him. He held himself up on his arm between Sam’s side and the backrest of the front seat, having to work Sam open left-handed, which was different in a not-really-important way. At least it gave him reason to go slow and concentrate. 

Sam had his arms folded on the seat under him, chin resting on the crossed forearms. Dean twisted his wrist, running his thumb against his rim.

“Not going to sleep on me there, are you?”

Sam snorted around a moan. “Who can fall asleep when you’re like this?”

Dean snorted back. “You’re sappy when you’re getting fucked.”

“Pot and kettle, Dean.”

Dean didn’t remember what that meant, but didn’t care. He leaned forward and dropped kisses along Sam’s back as he pressed in another finger. 

“Slow or fast, Sammy?”

“Mmm. Slow.”

Dean took his time working his fingers into Sam, only lightly teasing his prostate to keep him from getting too worked up. Sam’s soft noises of contented pleasure were just as good as when Sam was screaming. 

“Up,” Dean commanded as he removed his fingers, lightly smacking Sam’s ass. 

Sam grunted and rose up onto his hands and knees. Dean settled back further to roll on a condom, thinking of the fact they had a drive still to go whenever the rain let up. It was still pouring down. If it weren’t for the continued flashes of lightning, Dean might have considered indulging Sam’s kink with storms and drag him out into the rain, but he decided he’d rather not get his ass fried trying to pound Sam’s. The rumbles of thunder and the drumming of rain would have to be enough.

Dean shuffled forward again and carefully pressed inside. Sam moaned and shifted a little, letting one leg fall off the bench seat again. Dean moved in all the way, then stopped to kiss at Sam’s shoulders.

“Hear all that thunder, Sammy?” he murmured. “Quite a storm.”

Sam shivered and nodded. Grinning, Dean withdrew, then pressed back in. He moaned at the slick slide, beginning a lazy rhythm. A crash of thunder made them both jump and Dean hissed as Sam clenched around him. He laughed and ran his hand up Sam’s back before beginning to thrust again. 

“All your little kinks, Sam,” Dean murmured. “Public places--”

“I do not like being naked in public.”

“--serial killers--”

“That is not a fetish.”

“--panties--

“That’s-ah!-you.”

“--storms. And don’t pretend you don’t like feeling that silky material on your cock.”

Sam’s moan was answer enough. 

“Or maybe you like them on me better,” Dean continued, getting a feel for some dirty talk. “Get them hugging my hips, stupid cute little bow, that soft material straining against my dick when it’s hard as nails for you.”

“Dean…”

“Know you like to not even have me take them off. Just push ‘em down when I fuck you so you can feel them over my ass when you’re gripping it and pulling me against you.”

“Fuck, Dean…”

Dean was still moving gently inside Sam. He reached around, wrapping his fingers around the hard erection hanging neglected between Sam’s legs. Another peal of thunder made Sam tighten around him again and he groaned. Stroking slowly, he nuzzled against Sam’s shoulder.

“Hear all that rain, Sam? Really coming down. Maybe next time I’ll bring the panties and fuck you on Baby’s hood. That rain’d make the panties all see-through--”

Sam slammed his hips back, bracing one hand against the inside of the car door. Dean lost his breath, the sudden increase in speed distracting his train of thought. He started thrusting harder, stroking Sam a little awkwardly as he was still using his left hand. 

“Yeah, get the white pair, with the little sky blue bow on it. You’d be able to see my dick right through them, Sammy. Water’d be running all over us both, dripping off me when I’m thrusting into you just right--”

Dean rotated his hips and grinned at Sam’s cry. His brother was shaking now, pushing back against Dean when he had enough brain power to do so, one hand splayed against the side door, the other on the leather seat under him. Dean paused for another moment in his running commentary to just feel Sam’s tightness around him, feel the way his cock was pulsing between his fingers. 

“Outside in the rain, make sure you were stripped completely naked. Me too, except for the panties. Be almost like that night in the park, only I’d have you right out in the rain itself. Nothing between you and me and the storm blowing all around us--”

“Dean…fuck, please, just a little harder.”

Dean gave him what he asked for, his own breath running low now. “Like in Arizona. But a real storm, Sammy, like in Alabama. Like this one. I--fuck--I’d have you right over Baby--fuck--make her rock on her axels--”

“Now who has a fetish?”

Sam’s smart mouth earned him a bite. He hissed and bucked under Dean, almost throwing him off. Dean had to pause to line back up and shove back in, then he took him back in hand. 

“Shut up. Combine all the best parts, Sam, picture it. Thunder and lightning’ and wind and me--” Sam’s groan was obscene. “--and you, raining on us--Ah, fuck--Now come on, come for me.” 

Dean added a gentle twist of his fingers on the upstroke that was guaranteed to make Sam come. As if on cue, there was another crash of thunder so close it made the windows rattle. Sam yelped, bearing down on Dean as he shuddered and came in long, sticky spurts over Dean’s fingers. Two more thrusts and Dean followed him over, roaring as the wave of ecstasy rolled over him and made him see white. 

When he could see again, he found Sam had slumped into an ungainly heap, breathing raggedly with his face hidden in his arms. His hand was still splayed against the inside of the door, fingers lax. Dean grinned and fished out the handkerchief he kept in the glove box. It was a little greasy, but he removed the condom and cleaned up before moving so Sam could roll over. He looked dazed, and Dean felt a flash of pride. 

Wiping come off Sam’s belly, Dean spotted the scar again. He glared at it. 

Sam’s fingers curled under his chin, making him lift his gaze. Sam sat up and kissed him on the mouth, his other hand taking Dean’s and pressing it against the scar.

“Feel me?” Sam murmured between kisses. “Right here. Alive, Dean, and feeling fucking fantastic thanks to you.”

Dean found himself smiling. He tossed the rag on the floor, then reached over the backseat and grabbed up the blanket, throwing it around himself and then leaning against Sam, the pair of them settling on the seat. Dean rested his head on Sam’s chest, tugging the blanket firmly of the both of them, and listened to the steady thump of his heart.


End file.
